


Sigma's dropjes

by Insecuriosity



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Cultural Differences, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, The talon gang gets a taste of dutch culture, dutch candy, more specifically - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 09:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20580320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insecuriosity/pseuds/Insecuriosity
Summary: Each month, a single delivery van stops at the Talon headquarters, filled with an assortment if items for each of its operatives. And each month, all of Talon’s most feared soldiers stand in a line, ready to protect what iss rightfully theirs.Sigma is new on base, and nobody thought to tell him that he had better pick up his package himself, before the others would loot it.





	Sigma's dropjes

Anyone that was a part of Talon had their own allotted budget. It was a way to order the more mundane things without having to go through the hassle of making a purchase. Nobody wanted to get arrested or chased halfway across the planet for a bag of fritos and a mountain dew. And even the operatives that enjoyed the chase and the taunting, sometimes really just craved a taste of home without having to step into a jet.  
So, each month, a single delivery van would stop at the Talon headquarters, filled with the specific desires of each of its operatives. And each month, all of Talon’s most feared soldiers would stand in a line, ready to protect what was rightfully theirs. 

It was an unspoken rule that, if you weren’t there to claim your crate, its contents belonged to whoever grabbed it first. 

Sombra bit her lip, and looked over her shoulder with a barely contained smile. Sigma was new on the base. This would be his very first shipment, and he was nowhere to be seen, even as the delivery van was starting to pull in through the gate.  
“Did nobody tell him?” She asked the others. 

Reaper grunted something unintelligible.

“One learns best through experience.” Widowmaker replied. 

“Mate, last time I got to properly loot something was at least a week ago. I’m not passing this up! I wanna know what freaky-toe man stashes in his crate!” Junkrat replied. 

“It’s a way to get to know our new colleague, that’s how I see it.” Moira smiled. 

The van arrived. The crates were brought out, and swiftly claimed by their owners. All of them, except for one. Sigma’s symbol messily scrawled onto the side of it.  
Roadhog was the first one there, and the lid had popped off before Sombra could get in close. Junkrat threw cornstarch packaging peanuts all over the place as he scrambled to get as many packages as he could in his hands. 

“Oooh, looks like we got exotic candies on our hand!” He cackled, waving a pointed bag filled with shimmering black shapes. He held it up to his face and took a long sniff. “Ooooh, smells spicy! Something for you, Reaps?” 

“Out of my way.” Reaper growled. He elbowed Junkrat out of the way and grabbed two bags for himself. 

Sombra scrambled in to get her own share, even as Moira scooped out a couple of bags of what looked like pill-shaped mints. Doomfist didn’t bother going for the crate, and instead grabbed one of the bags that Junkrat was trying to toss into Roadhog’s arms. 

“Zoute dropjes, huh? Wonder what’s so special about this stuff that he had to ship a whole crate of it in.” He said. 

“I don’t know but we’re gonna find ouuuut~!” Sombra sing-songed. She opened the side of her own crate, and tipped her new acquisitions into it. “What’s wrong Widowmaker, you above a little stealing today?”

Widowmaker had only grabbed one bag, and was looking down at the label with an expression that Sombra had never seen her make before. “Oui, I suppose you could say that.” She replied, before tossing the bag back into the crate. “I am heading back to my room.” 

Sombra shrugged, and took one last look inside of Sigma’s crate. Everything had been looted already, save for a package of cookies that looked like boring old-people food. Sombra smiled to herself when she imagined Sigma’s dumbfounded face at finding his crate looted.  
“Welcome to Talon, nutcase!” She tipped his empty crate over, and cheerfully made her way back to her room. 

-

Sigma was in his laboratory, but he wasn’t doing anything that looked like science to Widowmaker’s eyes. He had one of his captive black holes in hand, and was staring into its depths as if he was looking in the eyes of his lover. 

“Sigma.” She set her box on top of his clean working bench.

“Hmm? Oh, hello.” The black hole collapsed and disappeared in a flash, and Sigma focused his attention on her. “It’s not often you drop by my laboratory. Do you want something?” 

“Our crates arrived today.” Widowmaker said. 

“Yes, they did.” Sigma was smiling now, and his eyes were searching her face. “Did you happen to see anyone… do something, to my crate?” 

Widowmaker had not told him about the Talon tradition of looting each other’s crates, but from the second she had seen the contents of Sigma’s crate, she’d realized that he had known about it all along. “Hm. Oui. It appears as if everyone thought to claim the contents of your crate, since you weren’t there to do so yourself.” 

“And did you find something you liked?” Sigma’s glee was nearly palpable, and Widowmaker could tell he was readying to use his powers. The hairs near her face were tingling. 

“Non.” Widowmaker almost managed a smile back. “I grew up near the borders of Belgium. I have already tasted the vile poison that you Dutch peddle as a delicacy. I know what ‘drop’ is. I did not think it was possible to make black licorice more disgusting than it already was, but somehow, the dutch have managed it.”

Sigma’s smile dropped, and the buzzing of his powers lessened. “… Don’t tell me you told them what drop is. That takes all the fun out of it!” 

Before Widowmaker could answer, Sombra’s form dashed past the lab door and into the communal kitchen. The faucet was thrown open as wide as it could go, and the sounds of spitting, rinsing, and disgusted moans made its way into the lab. 

Widowmaker blinked slowly, and made a soft waving motion with her hand. “Mm. I believe one learns best through… experience.”

“Hah! Hhahahahhahaa!!” Sigma burst out, and he bobbed up and down in the air with the force of his laugh. Still laughing, he floated to the kitchen. “Oh, Sombra, how did you enjoy drop? Did you try the trekdrop? It’s one of my favourites! Ooh ho – hahahaha! Oh, oh! Or the ruitjesdrop – quite the timeless treat where I’m from! Extra strong flavor!” 

The fact that Sombra didn’t grant him with a reply save for a hastily gestured middle finger said more than enough. A few doors down, Widowmaker could hear Junkrat beginning a cursing tirade – pausing only to spit and gargle.  
“WHAT IS THIS- *hack, pt-ooey* CRAP-?!*gargle*”

He floated towards the kitchen, still laughing, and a few moments later Widowmaker could hear Junkrat’s voice cursing up a storm between exaggerated gagging noises and spitting. Sigma was still laughing.  
Widowmaker pulled out one of the rarely used chairs in Sigma’s lab, and sat herself down on it, reaching into her crate to pull out her favourite sparkling rosé wine. She had planned to sit down and enjoy her evening with it, perhaps as a movie played in the background, but there would be nothing more entertaining than seeing what would happen once Reaper and Doomfist tried their hand at the pride and joy of the Netherlands; pure, black, licorice.

**Author's Note:**

> I looooove black licorice. Blew my mind that it's actually considered to be gross by pretty much every single country out there... except for the Netherlands. At this point anyone who enters the Netherlands and hangs out with a Dutchy is BOUND to be given a 'dropje' to taste. It's a rite of passage at this point


End file.
